I'll Be There

Rating: T

Summary: Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai

BrooklynBabbii

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Recommended Listening: "I'll Be There" by Tiffany Evans

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Ivan busied himself from the noises of gossip and teens transitioning for their last class of the day. He debated on whether he needed a certain textbook, finally deciding to read over the new unit before class at home, so he would at least be familiar with the words before he made a complete fool of himself on Monday. He was just putting a small pack of paper in his backpack to put into his binder later, his eyes focused on the ground, when a certain pair of feet came into view.

Pink painted feet in familiar white wedge sandals.

Ivan nearly squeaked in his throat, head rising quickly as to not catch a glimpse of what was under Selina's short skirt. Said girl giggled at his modesty and sidled closer, catching an eye from her friends to get on with it, as Ivan fumbled with the books in his locker and trying to shut it to leave as quickly as he was able. Why was Selina, one of the more popular and cutest girls in the school, talking to him?

He could have sworn that she had mispronounced his name in their shared Math class, when she had declared them partners on an assignment…and then proceed to text her friends, and leave the Russian teen to do all of the work.

"Hey there, Big Sexy," Selina purred and Ivan's head burned brightly and his voice choked in his throat, as she continued. "Care to explain to me, why you've been ignoring me all week? Hm? Did some girl try to take you down? You shouldn't listen to them, baby~"

"Uh," Ivan murmured, trying to think of an excuse. "I have to get to class…"

Selina smiled sweetly, almost too sweetly. She tried to lean up on her tiptoes to reach his cheek, and wrap her slim arms around her shoulders. She gave a kicked puppy look, trying to appear hurt by the mention. "Oh come on, you got good grades," she began, "You can afford to skip a few classes, right?"

Ivan frowned down at the girl, as he caught a glance to the side to see her posse on the other side of the hallway. He could see them now, the crowds had thinned. He put a firm hand on the strap of his backpack, feeling his good mood dampen more than h would have liked.

He should have known. It had been too good to be true, after all. Fucking popularity. This was exactly why he chose to be a loner, some days. Popularity was the root of everything. Ivan's shoulders tensed and then slumped slightly, as Selina continued to try and coax him to stay behind. Of course, no one would actually like him. Yao could hardly hang out with him anymore, what with his mother forever breathing down his neck.

But then again, maybe that was what all mothers do - maybe, Ivan had never known, because he had never had a true mother.

Some feeling, something he had long thought he had buried a long time ago, began to well up and Ivan roughly shook off the pretty girl on his arm and nearly stomped his way to class. The door was open, thankfully, and saved from feeling any of his wrath. The Russian teen took his usual seat in the near back, next to the window, and folded his arms over the desk before he sat his head atop of them.

Mother. His mother. He tried to remember what she looked like - conjuring up the fuzzy mental image of a slender woman, not much unlike his big sister, but her hair was a darker blonde. He could remember that she had freckles, like him, but her eyes were almost blue-green in color, a bit wide and more calculating than warm. She had ample curves, and a chest as endowed as Katyusha's. She had a proud nose, and her lips made a Cheshire-like smile.

...

She had called him "Vanya", once upon a time. Before she and his father had begun to fight. Where was she going out so late in the night? Why was she never home to watch the children? Why wouldn't she look at them the same anymore? Was something wrong?

Her reply was always the same: "It's none of your concern. Don't bother me with futile questions."

She turned exceptionally harsher with her son, Ivan, after he started growing up and showing more features.

She would look at him, and then look away. Sometimes, leave the room altogether. She would slowly refuse to make up his plate, because of how much he ate. She stopped playing with him, despite how it used to cause her so much joy. How she would sometimes go into his room late at night, when everyone else was asleep and go touch his face and say, "This wasn't supposed to happen..."

In time, everyone in their town became to catch up. They began to notice the similarities and differences in the children, in comparison to their parents. Katyusha was a perfect blend of her parents; her womanly figure from her mother, but her features from her father. Eyes would turn to Ivan and then the frowns started. They began to notice.

How his nose stood out more on his face, how his eyes slanted, and he kept growing big and stronger. How his hair was a tad too light to be like his father's, despite how he was the lighter blonde of his parents; how high his metabolism was, despite his parents' opposite trait. How he laughed, how his freckles were paler than his mother's and his father had none, how deep his voice was becoming to be, and how in early infancy, he had a couple of heart problems that couldn't be linked to either of his parents.

Ivan Andrev Bragniski was nearly nothing alike to his parents, and it was when he was starting grade school that it finally showed - when Ivan was starting to outgrow his older sister, who was of a higher grade, and his humble father was signing papers for him to go to school early. How his age became a question, rather than a known answer. It hadn't matched something.

That had been of the last blocks to fall into place, and no sooner had it happened, that Ivan's mother had tried to explain. But it was a lie. Everything she said now was lies. Said lies nearly smoothed out his father's fears, made everything all better, until it was becoming obvious she was only using him. When it looked like he would turn, she became pregnant yet again - this time, no one would be able to deny it was his.

Natalia was her father in female form, she was skinny at first, but soon plumped out to become slim. Her hair was the same shade of winter blonde. Her nose was slim, like his, and she had his eyes, a pretty shade of dark blue. She didn't smile much as a baby, and as she got older, she began to take on his attitude of smiling as well - While it was rare to see her physically smile with her lips, her eyes did more than make up for it.

His father was more than pleased with his new daughter, everyone was, and for a while, it took everyone's mind off of Ivan. Well, that is, until his mother called from a station.

She had been arrested. For...prostitution.

And to make matters worse, it was with a man, which could have passed for Ivan's father. Every feature was there and explained in full clarity. His mother could not hide this fact, nor could she deny it. Everything was coming out.

And everything was coming apart.

The whole town turned against her. The people who had once been her friends, would now turn against her, and give her a cold shoulder. People were frowning upon her, and whenever she went out with the family, until it got to the point where she just stayed home. She couldn't handle the looks thrown at her, and all of the whispered words. She began to cry and drink heavily.

The town became to turn more pity to Ivan's father, and Ivan, himself. As a child, he hadn't understood more than his mother was crying and his father would never smile like he used to. But when the townspeople would call him over for a cookie or an extra treat, as a simple child, he had taken them and thanked them all, not understanding at all.

Katyusha caught him doing said things, and ran to tell their mother. Said mother took the new toy that he had been given and broke it with her bare hands. Ivan had gotten the worst tongue lashing ever, and he had even cried in public, because of it. That made Natalia cry, as she was forever bonded to Ivan's hip for whatever reason, and seeing them cry made Katyusha cry, even as the eldest. Their mother, almost fully broken by her fall from grace, had then looked up to see so many faces glaring at her, that she had taken her children home and simply gave them all a treat and then locked herself in her room.

That would be the night that Ivan's father came home with a set of papers and would ask his mother to sign them. Ivan had heard her sobs and pleas from down the hallway, and even though he tried to investigate, Katyusha held him back and told to go back to sleep with Natalia. She had said it with tears in her eyes.

There was a space in his memory, that Ivan recognized it as the suppressed memories of coming overseas to America for the first time. He had asked about his mother, nearly every day, kept asking for her, and no one answered him. He tried to write letters for her, but then school started, and the poor child was trying to run him haggard with learning enough English to pass a grade. He did, and exceptionally so.

He tried to boast this to his father, but when he asked to show it to his mother, "so that she can smile again for me" as his only reason, Ivan saw the first tear sprout from his father's eyes.

That's when he learned the truth, and right as soon as he learned it, he grew up. He no longer asked for his mother, and he put away the only picture he had of her. He claimed to have "lost it", when in reality, he had put it between his matresses. He tried to forget her, and later, he would regret it.

Like now. More than a decade later, he regretted it.

...

"Mr. Bragniski? The answer, please, if you would like to join class again."

"The War of 1812, between Great Britian and America over the initial invasion of Canada - a British territory." Ivan answered fluidly, as if he had been paying attention the entire time. He rubbed at one sore eye, regretting pressing into his arm so hard.

"Correct, good to see you were listening, moving on."

Ivan nodded, and started to sit up. He might as well look like he was paying attention now. His eyes unconsciously made a move over the room. There were still a few kids looking at him. When he blinked, they had turned back around - so for the few of the popular cluster in the far right. They continued to study him, a bunch of them grinning.

He wasn't so much suprised when a note came by him. He didn't read it. Only silently tear it up and hide it away, so that he wouldn't get in trouble. When class ended, he was one of the first to leave. He didn't wait for Yao, and he was nearly home, when he passed by the cafe that he gone into the other day.

Arthur was working again, and Alfred was making a mess at the counter. Something flickered in his chest, a small longing to be a part of something and be accepted. But he took his hand from the window. He was about to walk past the restaurant, when someone's hand came upon his arm - he flinched and his arm recoiled from them.

"Ivan? What's wrong? What made you leave so early, aru?" Yao almost looked hurt, and Ivan immediately felt guilty. His friend, only and best friend didn't deserve his anger. Yao had only been good to him, since he came to live here, had always been a loyal friend. He didn't deserve someone else's deserved backslash.

Ivan sighed, running a hand through his hair and began to apologize, giving his friend a short synopsis of his day. Yao's nose wrinkled, as he made a small face. "That is one of the reasons why I can't stand them," he began to say, "They think they're entitled to know everything baout everybody. Like they knew anything to begin with."

The smile that began to come upon Ivan's face was natural, and it felt good. The Russian teen gestured to the cafe, "Wanna eat before we go home?" Yao took one look inside, and almost said no, until he saw the pastry display. His entire face changed, and it wasn't surprising when he was trying to yank Ivan through the doors.

The Asian had a serious sweet tooth, not even one that his mother could break. Pushing aside the mention of mothers, Ivan waved to Arthur, who managed a nod back as he continued to write down an order. Alfred was happy to see Ivan again, as per normal these days since his first venture inside, and the little boy was even warming up to Yao. If by warming up to him, meant stole half of his danish and smile with his teeth covered in cream cheese.

The laugh Ivan made was natural, and it made Yao giggle. Alfred was clapping, happy that they were happy, and the customers in the cafe were happier by watching the scene.

As Alfred sucked on his teeth to finish off the rest of the danish, and Yao had to remain satisified with what he was left with, Ivan felt happy again. There was little to regret here, he noticed. He did not regret finding Alfred and helping him find someone else to take care of them. He was happy for the child, happy that he had a good family that cared about him.

He was simply happy for him, and the regrets he had, they had nothing to do with Alfred. As they should be and should continue to stay that well.

All was well, nothing to burden his mind with unhappiness.

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How was this chapter?

I have no excuse on being so late. That is all.

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